


But Why Is the Jam Gone?

by catastrophicmeltdown



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, PWP, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-01
Updated: 2012-06-01
Packaged: 2017-11-06 13:22:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/419376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catastrophicmeltdown/pseuds/catastrophicmeltdown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shameless PWP. John texts Sherlock asking why the jam's all gone, and things escalate from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But Why Is the Jam Gone?

**Author's Note:**

> This was an RP between myself and the amazing [ taupetoupee](taupetoupee.tumblr.com/) via Omegle. They were Sherlock, I was John.
> 
> I edited this very little, taking out our personal coversation and fixing just slight grammar mistakes and spelling errors, and kept the format. Bask in taupetoupee's greatness. Amazing Sherlock, if I do say so myself.
> 
> If you like it, I'm sure taupetoupee would appreciate some love.

_Sherlock, what happened to the jam? –JW_

_It was really quite good. –SH_

_I can see why you like it so much. -SH_

_You do realise you're the one that's going to buy more on your way home, right? -JW_

_No, because I simply won't do it. -SH_

_And why not, considering you're the one that ate it all? -JW_

_Because I don't want any more. Why would I buy another jar? -SH_

_Because I do, and you're the reason I don't have any. -JW_

_Then go buy some. -SH_

_Why, when you're already outside? -JW_

_You're being ridiculous. -SH_

_I'm not the one that ate an entire jar of jam. -JW_

_It was my meal for the day. -SH_

_... I know you brought up meals on purpose. Fine, have it your way. I'll get the bloody jam. And I'll make sure there's enough for both of us. -JW_

_Thank you. That is most kind. -SH_

_You're lucky I love you. Which flavour do you want? -JW_

_Black currant or raspberry. But no seeds. -SH_

_Very well then. When are you planning to be back? -JW_

_Soon. Lestrade won't give me any cases. -SH_

_After the mess you made when you solved the last one, I'm not surprised. -JW_

_Oh it was necessary to solve it. Surely you know that. -SH_

_He's gotten even more insufferable now that he's dating my brother. -SH_

_Hey, I'm not going to complain. I've had fewer kidnappings from Mycroft recently. -JW_

_It's terribly disturbing, John. I've tried to talk him out of it but nothing works. -SH_

_Just don't think about it too much. They make each other happy. Surely you can ignore the images it gives you. -JW_

_You brought that up, John. -SH_

_I'm not happy. -SH_

_You sure I can't make you happy? -JW_

_...What exactly are you offering? -SH_

_Whatever you need. -JW_

_Well it won't be easy to distract me.. -SH_

_I like a challenge. -JW_

_Wouldn't be with you if I didn't. -JW_

_Have I ever told you that I loved you? -SH_

_You could stand to mention it more often, but yes. –JW_

_Well I'll make note of that. -SH_

_Knew I kept you around for a reason. -JW_

_By the way, I've finished shopping and am at the flat. -JW_

_I'll be there soon. -SH_

_You'll be here in exactly 2 minutes, because I just saw you round the corner. To save some time, I'll just tell you that I'll be in the shower. I'm feeling a bit grimy. -JW_

_Oh... Oh. I'll be right there, John. -SH_

Sherlock pocketed the phone and made his way into the flat, shedding articles of clothing as he went. John could always pick them up later. Peeking into the bathroom he strode in silently, sliding in behind John and wrapping his arms around the man's waist. "Hello, John," he murmured in his ear, nipping lightly at the lobe.

"Mm, hello to you too," John said, leaning into Sherlock. He tilted his head to give Sherlock more room to work with. "You're right on time."

"Oh? I'm just that good." Sherlock began placing light kisses on John's muscled neck, revelling in the tensing it caused.

He gasped quietly when Sherlock found that sensitive spot on his neck. "So, what was it that you needed me for," he said, the teasing tone less effective in his lust-addled voice.

Sherlock sucked sharply and bit at the skin, pulling back to look at the rather prominent mark. "Huh? I appear to have forgotten," he chuckled, leaning back down to lap at the bruise.

"Oh, I'm sure you didn't. You wouldn't have deleted that quite so quickly," John said. He pulled away slightly just long enough to turn so he was face-to-face with Sherlock. He wrapped his arms around Sherlock's shoulders, pulling him forward to tease his collarbone. "But if you did, I'm sure I can give you enough incentive to retrieve it from your recycling bin."

Sherlock tipped his head back, inhaling the smells that surrounded him. John was distinct, but there were also the soaps and the shaving creams. He was brought out of his head by a particularly sweet spot. "John..." he groaned, pulling the man's hips closer and rutting against his toned stomach.

"Remember anything yet?" John said, moving one hand down to Sherlock's hips. He matched his rhythm with his own hips, making a clear mark on Sherlock's collarbone before moving on to other areas.

Sherlock's hips stuttered slightly before going back to his languid grinds. "Not yet, you'll just have to work a bit more," he purred in his deep baritone, relishing in the way it sounded in the small area.

"Mhmm. Well, who am I to stop when a job isn't finished?" John slid down, biting and licking various places as he went. He settled on his knees, making sure he wouldn't slip on the tiles, and looked back up at Sherlock. "Looks like you've got a bit of a problem, Sherlock," he said, rubbing little circles on Sherlock's hips as he flicked his tongue against his hardening cock.

Sherlock balled his hands into fists and looked down at John, forcing himself not to thrust into the wet heat. "I'd say it's a very large problem," he breathed out, refusing to look away from John. "But I think you can handle it, you've proven yourself quite capable."

"Thank you," John said, before quickly moving forward and swallowing Sherlock's length.

Sherlock gasped, watching as he disappeared inside of John's mouth. God, he'd never tire of this sensation.

John hummed and started bobbing his head, running his tongue along the vein on the bottom, just the way he knew Sherlock liked it.

Sherlock finally leaned his head back, focusing on the sensations John was creating. He always came easily the first time, but he wanted this to last. He could live in this moment forever.

John listened to the sounds Sherlock was making, Sherlock's obvious arousal making his own cock harden. He bobbed faster, taking Sherlock completely into his mouth before pulling back out. Sherlock always looked so beautiful like this, his mouth half open and head tilted back as maddening sounds fell from his lips.

Sherlock could feel the heat pooling in his abdomen, that maddening pull that overwhelmed his senses. "John... I'm..." was all he could manage, trying to give him enough warning to pull away. His vision burst, the feel of his orgasm causing his legs to tremble.

John hummed to show it was fine, and swallowed it as quickly as he could when Sherlock orgasmed. He pulled off of Sherlock's softening cock and stood up, wincing a bit when his knees protested. They didn't appreciate the tiles, but he'll be damned if he gave up giving Sherlock blowjobs in the shower when he looked so gorgeous when he came. He was still hard, but grabbed the soap and lathered Sherlock. "Not bad, hm?"

"Huh?" Sherlock blinked his eyes open and looked at John. "Oh yeah, that was fine." he mumbled, relaxing into the touch. Some part of him knew he should reciprocate, but he could get that later. Right now John was cleaning him and it felt absolutely lovely.

John chuckled. "I like you better like this. I need to make this happen more often."

"Oh by all means, go ahead. My minds all clear and empty." Sherlock sighed, a lazy smile spreading on his lips.

"Not right now. Right now, we're supposed to be getting you clean," John said, manoeuvring Sherlock's limbs to get the soap where it needed to be before rinsing him off. "There, you're nice and clean now."

Sherlock shook himself out of his calm, suddenly realizing John was still at half mast. "I should help you," he offered, reaching a deft hand out to stroke the appendage.

"If you want. Or, we could save it for later," John said. "You know, with those lovely new sheets we have that haven't been taken care of yet."

Sherlock bit back a small moan at the thought. "Really, it's just a shame. We've simply been neglecting them." He pulled his hand back, simply resting it on John's shoulder.

"Well, we can't have it known that the great Sherlock Holmes neglected something as important as this, can we?" John said. He reached behind himself and shut off the water. "It would ruin your reputation."

"Everyone would be so disappointed in me," Sherlock agreed, stepping out of the shower and grabbing a fluffy towel. Turning back to John he began drying him lightly, being particularly gentle on certain... sensitive areas.

Even though Sherlock was being gentle, his arousal -- which had cooled off some during the shower -- came back with a vengeance. He moaned and tried to regulate his breathing to keep himself from tackling Sherlock before they even made it out of the bathroom.

"John, you really should hold on until we get to the bedroom." Sherlock suggested, reaching out to rub a small circle against the very tip. "It wouldn't do to just... lose control right here."

"Your argument isn't very convincing when your hand is on my dick," John panted.

"Oh, alright then." Sherlock stood, quickly towelling himself off and heading towards the door.

"Oh, I wish I could say I hate it when you tease me," John said, watching as Sherlock's naked form walked towards the door. His eyes lingered on his gorgeous arse before moving back up. "But I'm almost sure I'd be lying."

"And I can always tell when you lie." Sherlock opened the door and walked out into the hallway, making his way to the bedroom. "I know you like my bum, John, but this is a bit ridiculous." He looked back at John and winked.

"Of course it's not ridiculous; something that beautiful deserves to be worshipped." John followed him out, watching Sherlock's muscles flex as he did. "And I'm more than happy to." They reached the bedroom, and John asked, "Lube?"

Sherlock laid back on the bed stretching languidly before motioning to the bedside drawer. "Should be in there, unless we lost it last time." He wrinkled his face up, trying to remember exactly where it had ended up.

"I wouldn't be surprised if we did," John said. He quickly rifled through the drawer, making a small "Aha!" when he found the lube pushed to the back. "At least we didn't lose it like the other bottle." He settled atop Sherlock. "Now, where were we?"

"Oh I don't know, I think you said we were going to take a nap." Sherlock grinned, his arms up above his head. "Or did you have something else in mind?"

"A nap sounds very... boring. Do you have any other suggestions?" John teased, leaning forward and abusing the spot on Sherlock's collarbone where he'd left a mark.

"We could always watch the telly," Sherlock stated, his breath hitching as he arched up. "Or go out for dinner." Now he was just being a tease, but he knew John liked it that way.

"Hmm, dinner sounds nice," John said, shifting slightly so he could grind down on Sherlock's hips. "How's Indian sound?"

"I was thinking that Thai would be better," Sherlock countered, pressing up against John with a choked groan. "But if you insist..."

"No, no," John gasped. "Thai sounds delicious. We can, ah!, have Indian tomorrow." John canted his hips, and the friction made his nerves sing. He'd already been worked up; this was so much better and worse. "Ah, Sherlock, can you just do something? Anything? I'm going mad. So close."

Sherlock put his hands on John's hips, stilling the movement. "You asked," he stated at the face he was making. Switching their positions fluidly Sherlock lifted himself up and lubed two fingers, pressing one inside of him easily.

"Oh, fuck!" he half yelled, words seeming to get caught in his throat halfway out. He rolled his hips, trying to pull that finger in deeper. "Oh God, right there!"

"Relax, John," Sherlock cooed, pressing soft kisses to his chest. "It won't do to get so worked up already," he reminded him, teasing slowly with the tip of his second finger before sliding it in. "We haven't done it like this for a while."

"It's a little late to keep from getting worked up." John spread his legs a bit more and tried to relax to make it easier for Sherlock. "And we haven't. Forgive me if I'm a bit eager."

"I could always just have you fuck me," Sherlock murmured, nipping lightly at the taut skin before pulling a nipple into his mouth. Slowing down the movement of his fingers he began slow stretching, not wanting to hurt John at all.

"Maybe I'll take you up on that later. But right now, I'm very happy with this position." John felt the slight burn and moaned. Damn him and his slightly masochistic tendencies.

"If you insist." Sherlock bit down on the hard nub before pulling back and blowing cool air on it. "God, I love you like this, John." He pulled out his fingers and slicked up his cock which had already hardened again. Leaning over the shorter man, Sherlock positioned himself at John's twitching entrance.

John locked his legs around Sherlock's waist. He pressed down with his legs, forcing Sherlock into him. He arched and moaned as he was stretched, Sherlock brushing ever so slightly against his prostate.

"Shit!" Sherlock ducked his head, trying to calm himself from the sudden sensory overload. "A little warning would have been nice," he managed to get out, panting slightly and concentrating on the feel of John tightening around him.

"You know me; never one to give warnings when actions are better," John said, his pants matching Sherlock's. "Although, if you don't start moving soon I'm gonna flip us over. Consider that a warning."

"Oh?" Sherlock smirked, pulling back a small amount and thrusting in slowly. "That would be awful. I would just hate it if you were to ride me until you came in a twitching mess. Just terrible."

"I'd make sure I held out until you blacked out," John said. "You know I always reach my goals. Especially," he craned forward and scraped Sherlock's neck with his teeth, "when it has such wonderful rewards."

Sherlock pulled out until only the crown was in and thrust in swiftly, a deep growl pulling from his throat. "If you keep talking like that I won't last that long."

"That's the point, isn't it?" John laughed, before it transformed into a moan. He bucked his hips to match Sherlock, digging his fingers into Sherlock's shoulder. "You're gonna have bruises in the morning," he managed to choke out.

Sherlock kept up a steady rhythm of deep thrusts, sweat beading on his brow. "You know I love it when you mark me," he growled out, tilting so that each thrust hit that wonderful sweet spot inside of John.

"Good, because there's gonna be a lo-- ah!" John gasped as Sherlock pounded into his sweet spot. His legs shifted higher up on Sherlock's waist, giving them both more ease of movement. He degenerated into incoherent ramblings as Sherlock kept up his pace, his cock sliding between their abdomens with every movement.

Sherlock managed a small grin before latching his teeth onto John's neck, enjoying the musky taste of his skin. Slowing his movements he thrust back and forth only an inch, abusing the already swollen gland. God he loved when he could reduce the doctor to a pile of pliant nerves.

"You... fucking... tease. My threat to flip us over still stands," John said, extremely frustrated with the sudden lack of movement. He supposed his threat would be more effective if he had proper control of his limbs, but if Sherlock kept this up he was sure he'd find a way to fulfil his threat.

Sherlock stopped entirely, pulling off his neck with an audible pop and staring into John's stormy eyes. "Now that's just not nice. Why can't you just take what I give you?" He moved a hand up and pinched an already abused nipple, grinning down at the man.

John growled and gathered a surprising amount of strength, considering his current state, to knock out Sherlock's arm and use his legs to unbalance Sherlock. He flipped them over, pinning Sherlock to the mattress as he settled astride him. "Want something done right, you gotta do it yourself," he grumbled. He rotated his hips slowly at first, quickly getting used to the position before moving faster.

Sherlock lay back, his hands tightening on John's hips, rubbing small circles with his thumbs. "God you're brilliant," he said quietly, looking up at John through half lidded eyes as he met his downward thrusts.

"I try," John panted, his hips going still faster. Then he shifted to make it easier, and cried out as his prostate was hit dead on. His rhythm stuttered as every nerve ending in his body seemed to flare.

Sherlock thrust up harder, abusing the spot without mercy. His grip became ever tighter, pulling John down to meet a particularly sharp strike. "John... you look so gorgeous like this, all flushed just for me." He couldn't be sure if he was rambling incoherently but he couldn't care less.

"Oh God. You... always know which buttons to push, don't you?" John said. He reached for his own cock, his precum making a good enough lubricant as he gripped himself.

Sherlock bit his lip, only increasing his pace more. "I observe, John." He reached up and flicked a nipple, pulling hard as he bottomed out into him.

John felt Sherlock's full thrust into him, and it was too much. He screamed as he came, ribbons of white painting his lower abdomen as some dribbled onto his hand. When he'd finished he collapsed against Sherlock's chest, too out of it to even consider moving a muscle.

Sherlock groaned deeply as he felt John tightening around him coming deep inside him. Wrapping his arms around John he nuzzled into his neck, inhaling deeply. "You're bloody amazing," he mumbled, his eyelids shut tight and his muscles still trembling from the force of the orgasm.

"I should've recorded that. Sherlock Holmes admitting that someone other than himself is amazing. No one will ever believe me," John mumbled. He managed to shift slightly to the side, no longer crushing Sherlock as much. He wrapped an arm around him and snuggled into his side.

Sherlock managed a weak huff at the comment. "Well you deserved it. Why do we do anything else again?" he held John close, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

"Because we can't go on forever, and when we don't you'll be bored. Since I just fixed that damn wall, you are _not_ getting bored in the near future. Even if I have to throw myself on Greg's tender mercies," John said, his words slightly slurred.

"Right, that's why," Sherlock thought hazily, soaking in John's body heat. "It's hard to remember after that life altering sex we just had," he sighed, rubbing John's back lazily.

"Thank you. I try my best," John smirked.

"Oh don't think I didn't help at all." Sherlock glared down at John half-heartedly.

"Okay, I'll admit you did some of the work. It's only fair to give credit where it's due." John leaned up and kissed the glare off of Sherlock's face. "Now sleep. You need it, and I'm willing to bet we'll get a case tomorrow. You've got to be at your best."

"Fine," Sherlock grumbled, closing his eyes and situating them more comfortably. "But you're going to be quite sticky in the morning," he smiled, leaning back against the pillows.

"I'll take a shower. You're quite welcome to join me," John said as he let Sherlock rearrange them. When Sherlock was done he settled back into Sherlock's side. He felt his eyelids close without his consent. "Mm. Night, Sherlock. Love you."

"Sleep well, John," Sherlock mumbled, drifting off into a dreamless sleep. "I love you too."


End file.
